The Shadow
by SpaceshipAdventure
Summary: Since I have always thought there was a lacking of NCIS stalker stories, well, here it is. An unknown man is obsessed with a someone on team Gibbs. Can they figure it out before its too late?
1. Chapter 1

The wind swirled the leaves around his feet. His coat was wrapped tightly against the cold of the dark October night. Moonlight flooded the silent street. No cars came at this hour.

Everyone was fast asleep. They lay unsuspecting in their beds. She lay unsuspecting. He heard his footsteps echo around the surrounding apartment buildings. His heart hammered

inside his chest. He was finally here. The place where she ate and slept. The place where she dreamed and lived. He looked up at the crumbling brick building. One of those windows

was hers. He dreamed of her often. Did she ever dream of him. He doubted it. She had never met him. But that was all about to change. She would know him soon. She would dream

of him, want him. As much, if even more, then he wanted her. But he would have to wait. H didn't want to scare her. He had a plan. To make her want him, make her need him. He

would have to start off small. Once he gained her trust and respect, he would make her his. He shivered as a gust off frosty wind blew through his long brown hair. It brushed against

his red tipped ears. As much as he would have like to stay, he would have to be quick. He looked back at the park behind him. Shadows crept through the tall trees. They cast an eerie

glow over the small park. The grass swayed as the autumn wind cast through them. He could see his car parked on the other side of the park. I was half blocked from view by the

gazebo, but he could get to it if he needed to. But he didn't care if anyone caught him. He was here. He was so close. It had taken a while, but he had finally tracked her. Many

painstaking hours he had sat, reviewing everything he had on her. He had almost given up at one point. But he kept going. And it all would pay off. He closed his eyes and breathed

in a lungful of fresh night air. He had too do it now. He reached into one pocket of his long black overcoat and pulled out a letter. His footsteps echoed as he climbed the concrete.

steps. With a creak, he swung open the rusty black mailbox labeled apartment "107".


	2. Pictures

It was weird. She had woken up to a strange letter in her mailbox. It wasn't as much strange as it was unexpected. It had one simple word written on it in black pen. It said, Hello.

It was probably nothing, just someone putting a note in a random mailbox. But it made her feel good. It made her smile. Just a happy beginning to an even better day. It probably

meant nothing.

"Hey Abby."

At that very moment, Abby was distracted by the arrival of Mcgee.

"Hey Tim, what do you have for me?"

Timothy Mcgee placed a white box marked, "Evidence" on her silver examination table.

"Another case. A pretty bad one too. A petty officer was found floating in a stream in Little Creek. He had apparently been there for three days, or so Ducky estimates. He wasn't

completely sure because of some freezer burns found on the foot. If he had been frozen after death it could have affected the bodies cooling. Ducky thinks that is the case because

of some splotches found on the victims' back and legs. He says he will…"

"Mcgee, I know forensics. That's why I went to college."

"Oh sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Now bug off and let me work."

"Bye."

She watched Mcgee leave through the doorway. Carefully, She started to look through the contents of the box. Trash, skin samples, and a broken pen now lay on the table. Placing

the box on the floor, she began to shift through the baggies. The skin samples and blood samples should probably be tested first. Well, after she ran his picture through the

database. The rest was probably irrelevant to the case but she had to check anyway. She picked up the black digital camera and removed the memory card. Placing the memory card

in the computer, she noticed something odd about the photos. There were none. Well there was one. It wasn't much of a picture. It was a note. And it said, " I know you. You don't

know me." She couldn't tell what it meant. How on earth could someone get this on the camera anyway? But what scared her most wasn't the writing, but the note itself. The

paper, the handwriting, and probably the ink, were exactly the same! The pen that was found at the crime scene! It was probably the pen used to write the note they found. And

possibly the one in her mailbox. But that was weird. Why would the killer be writing to her? But she was jumping to conclusions. She hadn't even tested it yet. It was probably just

a coincidence. The better question was, where were all the pictures? Unless this was some kind of joke.

"Watcha' got for me Abs?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing!" Gibbs said, very surprised."

"Well yes, something. But it's nothing. Oh, I don't mean it's not important. I mean the something we have is nothing. Because there's nothing there. And there should be."

"What?" said Gibbs, obviously confused.

"The camera. It's empty. Someone deleted the pictures. Except for this one note. I'm guessing the pen was used to write this note."

Gibbs leaned in close to the computer screen.

"Don't guess. Find out who deleted them. And make the pictures come back. Reboot it if you have to."

Gibbs left before Abby could mention anything about the similarities between the two notes.

"You can't just make the pictures reappear." Abby whispered under her breath.

"Hey boss," started Mcgee, "I just got the strangest email."

"Well, what's it say."

"It, um, doesn't say anything."

"You're almost as weird as Abby today."

"It doesn't say anything. Its just pictures."

"Of what Probie?" Asked Tony DiNozzo, taking his feet off of his desk.

Kate looked up.

"There the pictures from the camera."

"Abby must have recovered them."

"But she didn't send this email."

"What?" Gibbs looked up.

"Then who has our pictures? Asked Kate.

"I don't know?"

"Figure it out Probie. Its what you're paid to do."

Her fingers flew over the keyboard trying to complete a job she knew she couldn't do. She still had to try anyway. Sometimes things just have a way of working out. But not this

time. All she had was the time the pictures were removed. But unless it was Kate, Tony or Mcgee, someone had removed them in the evidence van. And they would know if

someone broke in. Maybe someone did it wirelessly. This would be a problem. What would she tell Gibbs? He would not be happy. This would be the first time ever that she would

not be able to do something. She could feel worry creeping through her veins. But suddenly a small ding brought her out of her thoughts. A small bubble appeared at the bottom of

her screen, broadcasting a new email. She clicked it. Gaping, she realized the email was of the pictures. It could have only been sent from one person. The killer. At the top of the

page were two words.

"I'm sorry." Abby read them aloud.

"For what?" Asked Gibbs. "Have you rebooted the memory thingy?"

"No but I have the picture."

"Then why are you sorry?"

"That's what it says at the top of the page."

Gibbs placed the caf-pow on the metal table and watched as Abby scrolled down the page. The crime scene was nothing special. Or as she should say, unusual. There were pictures

of trash, footprints, and the corpse. But as she saw his face, her heart leaped to her throat.

"I know that man."


End file.
